Monday, November 23, 2015


I just opened my Facebook page to see a post with an article titled 10 Ways Your Toddler Can Help Cook Thanksgiving.  I thought, this is a joke right?  The 10 ways will be a witty commentary on how to get them out of the kitchen, potentially out of the house....right?   WRONG.  

Before I turn my "snarky bitch" dial to MAXIMUM, let me just say this is a lovely thought, and in the holiday season it is the thought that counts.  That said, this shit be cray.

Wouldn't it be nice to have your child help in the kitchen and have it actually be helpful on a random Tuesday, let alone on the Holy Grail of Cooking holiday?  The last time I had my 5 year old in the kitchen with me I am pretty sure a booger ended up in our pie.  (Since it was for his pre-school class and would end up being "Dumpster Pie" I didn't really care that much.)  The last time I cooked Thanksgiving dinner WITHOUT the assistance of a toddler I almost landed in the looney bin just by his sheer presence in the house.  No, Thanksgiving is not the time for little snotty, dirty finger nailed, toddler helping hands.

Without further delay, let's get to the highlights shall we?
1. The TurkeyYour toddler can help:
  • Rub the turkey with butter or oil prior to roasting. Just make sure to wash their hands very thoroughly after they touch raw meat!
WOW,  Yes, in addition to the standard stress of meal prep in general and while likely doing 10 other things, I will make sure that my 2 year old doesn't run full sprint from the kitchen when he sees fit (which could be at ANY moment) until he washes his hands, a feat accomplished on a good day by my having to physically restrain him and wrestle him into the bathroom and shove his filthy hands under the water while he screams bloody murder.  Not to mention that he will very likely run off while MY hands are also covered in butter and raw meat and will require their own washing which will take just enough time for him to touch every f&cking surface in the house.
2. Mashed PotatoesYour toddler can help:
  • Mash the potatoes. It'll be hard work, but they'll probably love giving it a go with a potato masher.
Yes they will love "giving it a go", they will also love flinging boiled potato all over my kitchen.
3. StuffingYour toddler can help:
  • Pour the stock: If your toddler is pretty steady with her hands, she can pour the stock over the stuffing before baking.
If my toddler is steady with his hands?  Yea, my toddler has hands like a surgeon, totally.  Seriously? When was the last time you met a toddler with steady hands?  The whole point of toddlerhood is to be UNSTEADY!  
4. Dinner RollsYour toddler can help:
  • Shape the rolls. When the dough is ready, your toddler can help you shape the rolls and put them on a baking sheet. 
The last time my toddler shaped something out of play-doh it resembled a penis so I'll pass on this one.
5. Sweet Potato CasseroleYour toddler can help:
  • Taste and adjust seasonings. Let your toddler taste the sweet potatoes at the end, and talk with him about what it needs. More salt? More sugar? Let him add it.
Ok, because I trust the palate of a person that eats his own boogers, thinks PB&J is haute cuisine but turns his nose up at a perfectly seasoned and cooked piece of meat or fish.

Is this really who you want helping in the kitchen on Thanksgiving?

6. Green Bean CasseroleYour toddler can help:
It doesn't matter what the recommendations were here, it's a green vegetable, he is more likely to tell me to go f&ck myself than to have anything to do with a green bean.
7. Cranberry SauceYour toddler can help:
  • Grind the spices. If you're grinding your own spices for this, either in a spice grinder or with a mortar and pestle, let your toddler give it a go.
Grinding my own spices?  That's just showing off!  Who has time to grind their own spices with a toddler around?
8. Pumpkin PieYour toddler can help:
  • Roll out the pie crust. They love the rolling pin.
  • Crimp the pie crust edges. This is the best part!
WHOA! Hold it a second.  Unless you are a bonafide pastry chef it is hard enough to get your pie crust just right to begin with, no way would I let those little chubby germ sticks near my pie crust.  This is just an irresponsible suggestion.
9. Pecan PieYour toddler can help:
  • Measure out the pecans. Let them get two cups ready for you.

Yep, I'll come grab those two cups of pecans from you as soon as I pick up the remaining 300 that fell out of the bag and onto the floor.
10. The Table
It's not a recipe, but it's still a big part of Thanksgiving! Your toddler can help:
  • Place trivets on the table. You know you're going to need them!
My 2 year old thinks my trivets are giant cookies...true story.

(The original article by Cambria Bold can be seen here in its entirety, and there are actually some cute ideas in it, don't let my bad attitude steer you away.)

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Happy Thanksgiving with Pre-School Dumpster Pie

My son’s pre-school sends home their uneaten food in their lunch boxes.  They also send home the uneaten leftovers from their class parties.  For example, today I volunteered to bring the dessert for the Thanksgiving feast at school.  Upon pick up I received 2 half eaten pies.  Now, I get why they do this in the lunch box, it’s the easiest way from mom to see what her child did (or more commonly) did not eat at lunch.  I’m ok with that, even though dealing with the half mushed, half eaten, jelly-laden sandwich (that’s been sitting around for several hours by the time I get to it) is rather disgusting and demoralizing day after day.  Every day I open those damn lunch boxes and it’s like my kids are saying, “You call this lunch!? Clean this shit up!”   Yes, the sent home lunch is indeed annoying but it serves a purpose.  However, when they send me home with half an apple pie and half a pumpkin pie…what am I supposed to do with that? Do they expect me to EAT them?  They have been sitting for SIX hours in a PRE SCHOOL CLASS ROOM!  I’d rather eat it out of a dumpster.  Do you have any idea the germs that are now residing on/in those pies?  Have you looked closely at most pre-school children?  Have you noticed their snot-crusted noses?  How do they even breathe?  Have you seen the fingernails of most pre-school boys?  Dry heave.  These walking plagues are breathing their nasty, poorly brushed teeth breath and flinging their scrawny little bodies around that room, coughing openly, sneezing monsoons of germs into the air, and I am supposed to take those pies home and serve them to my family?  Eat them?  I’m not even sure I want the pie plate back, let alone the pie. 

Dumpster pie………………………………………………………..........It is going straight into the trash……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………what a waste…………………………………………………............I’ll just have a sliver, I took vitamins today.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

A Love Letter to Coffee

Dear Half Consumed Cup of Coffee,

I wanted to drink you.  I had every intention of drinking you fresh from the pot, piping hot and rich and full of coffee and caffeine happiness.  I tried.  I sat down; I took a sip.  I took another and then yet another.  You were good Coffee and you deserved to be sipped and treasured until the very last drop.  Alas, my children had other ideas for you.  Every morning my cherished moments of coffee sipping are interrupted by their fucking alternative plans and incessant needs.  I can’t blame them too much, my darling Coffee, as they are children and not allowed to partake in the robust and scalding hot pleasure that you bring and thus, they are ignorant to your bliss.  It is a tortured struggle with my endless pleading going ignored.  I beg, “PLEASE let mommy finish a cup of coffee!” and “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD ALL I WANT IS A FFFFFFFffffffffffuuuu…CUP OF COFFEE BEFORE YOU START HARASSING ME!” they just don’t understand…they can not.  OH Coffee!  I wanted you so badly that I even re-heated you, committed to drinking you my love.  I know you don’t want me to re-heat you, I know you prefer that I not destroy your original flavor and chip away at your integrity but Coffee, I really wanted to drink you and I love you even if you aren’t at your best.  As is often the case, one of those ignorant pains in the asses got to me again before I could get to you.  It was tragic!  The microwave kept chirping away “beep….beep” letting me know you were still in there awaiting my return, which came far too late.  

Coffee, I am sorry that I placed you aside on the countertop and spent the remainder of my day cruelly ignoring your presence.  I am sorry that in a moment of great weakness I replaced you with a store bought version that had a high price tag and none of your cheery “good morning sunshine” character.

 I love you Coffee and I will always love you…until we meet again tomorrow morning,


My beloved.